


Family Way

by machtaholic (cinderella81)



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mpreg, Pampering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-05 01:45:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16358285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderella81/pseuds/machtaholic
Summary: Quentin's been having a bad couple of days and Eliot (with Margo's assistance) knows exactly how to help.MPREG AHOY FOLKS





	Family Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lexalicious70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexalicious70/gifts).



“King Quentin? King Quentin, it’s time to get up.”

Quentin groaned and clenched his eyes closed; the sleeping spells cast on his bed prevented him from rolling onto his back.

“Sire, you really must get up.”

“Don’t wanna,” Quentin muttered, sighing softly when he heard steps retreating out of the room. A few moments later, he heard quick confident steps approach the bed and felt the mattress dip.

“Quentin.”

Quentin sighed and opened his eyes, looking over to see Eliot perched on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t wanna get up,” Quentin mumbled.

“I know, but I promise a reward if you do,” Eliot replied.

“A reward?” Quentin said.

“Mmmhmm,” Eliot hummed.

“Fine.” Quentin tugged the pillow out from between his knees and let Eliot help him sit up so his feet were dangling off the bed.

“It’s just a meeting with our advisors,” Eliot said as he helped Quentin off the bed. “Well first a quick breakfast, then the meeting with the advisors.”

“Fine,” Quentin said again.

“I know you’re cranky,” Eliot said softly and he reached for a fur lined robe and wrapped it around Quentin, securing it so the belt sat on top of Quentin’s burgeoning belly.

“Of course I’m cranky,” Quentin said as he followed Eliot to the little table near the window in their bedroom where he slowly lowered himself into the chair. “I’m eight months pregnant.”

It shouldn’t have been possible - certainly on Earth it wasn’t possible. But in Fillory, a pregnant man was apparently old news. All it had taken was one offhand comment and a maid who thought she was fulfilling some lifelong wish. A simple spell cast over Quentin’s peach juice at dinnertime and one very romantic night with Eliot later and … 

“You look beautiful,” Eliot murmured, pressing a kiss to Quentin’s hair before sitting across from him at the breakfast table.

“I look like a beached whale,” Quentin muttered as he picked at his fruit and sipped his milk.

“Nope,” Eliot said. “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re only saying that because it’s your baby in here,” Quentin said, patting his stomach gently.

“Our baby,” Eliot said. “Not that I quite get the logistics of that, given we’re both men.”

“The doctor tried to explain it, but I think I was too stunned to pay much attention,” Quentin admitted.

“Admittedly I didn’t pay much attention, either,” Eliot said. “But from what I gather it’s a pretty common thing here. And your pregnancy has done wonder for Fillory’s morale. Commoners love a royal pregnancy, even here.”

That was true. Once word had got out that the two Fillorian kings were expecting a child, flowers and gifts had started to arrive at the castle and had quickly filled the throne room.

“We have enough baby blankets and burp clothes for at least five babies,” Quentin said. “And no, I don’t plan on having more. You can have the next one.”

“Maybe I will,” Eliot replied with a smile.

“Might hold you to that,” Quentin mumbled as he pushed his plate away.

“You should eat more,” Eliot urged.

“Not hungry,” Quentin said. “Let’s just get the advisors meeting over, okay? I promise to eat lunch.”

Eliot nodded as he stood, pressing another sweet kiss to Quentin’s hair before going to the door and letting Margo and their advisors in.

“No need to move, Quentin.” Margo strode into the room, advisors behind her and took a chair next to Quentin, pressing a kiss to Quentin’s cheek. “We’ll all come to you.”

Eliot took the seat on the other side of Quentin and motioned for the advisors to begin the meeting. 

Over the course of Quentin’s pregnancy, both Margo and Eliot had gotten very good at reading Quentin’s moods and the moment it looked like Quentin’d had enough of the advisors, Eliot called an end to the meeting.

“We’ll pick it up later,” Eliot said, motioning for everyone to leave.

“Think you’re up to some lunch?” Margo asked gently. “Some soup maybe?”

“Maybe,” Quentin said.

“Okay,” Margo said. “Eliot’s going to keep you company and I’ll be right back.”

“You’re both coddling me,” Quentin said after Margo had left.

“I’m the father, I’m supposed to coddle,” Eliot said. “And Margo cares about you, too.”

“I know,” Quentin said, rubbing his stomach absentmindedly.

“Kicking?” Eliot asked, resting a hand on Quentin’s stomach. He and Margo were the only ones who were allowed to touch Quentin without asking first.

“Just moving around a bit,” Quentin said. “At least Baby’s not too active at night.”

“Baby knows you need your sleep,” Eliot said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Quentin’s cheek.

“I come bearing food and gifts,” Margo said as she re-entered the room, two servants behind her.

“I thought all the gifts sent to the castle were being left in the throne room,” Quentin said.

“This gift is from me,” Margo said. “But first, some lunch.”

Quentin gave her a soft smile as Margo waved the servant over to set the tray in front of Quentin.

“Smoked haddock and corn chowder, Sire,” the servant said.

“With some fresh watermelon juice,” Margo said.

“Thank you,” Quentin said as he dropped a napkin on his belly and dug in.

“Will you let us take care of you?” Margo said. “You’ve been tense the past few days.”

“I have,” Quentin admitted. “Bad couple of days.”

“You know you can come to us when you have bad days,” Eliot murmured, nudging the juice closer to get Quentin to drink.

“I know, I thought I could handle it,” Quentin whispered, taking a drink of juice.

Eliot leaned over and gave Quentin a sweet kiss.

“Stubborn king,” Eliot said fondly. “Finish your lunch.”

Quentin ate the rest of his lunch in silence, Margo and Eliot solid presences at his sides. When he was done, Quentin found himself tugged to his feet and practically dragged to his bathroom. The tub had been filled with warm water and the smell of cedar filled the air.

With only the barest hint of self consciousness, Quentin stripped down and carefully lowered himself into the tub. He hummed happily as the water buoyed him, almost instantly relieving him of his aches and pains. He rested his head on the lip of the tub and gave Margo and Eliot a smile.

“Thank you for this,” Quentin murmured. “I didn’t realize I needed this.”

“And that’s why you need to talk to us, Q,” Eliot said, moving to sit at the head of the tub. “So we can help before it gets too bad. Now scoot forward a bit so I can wash your hair.”

Quentin sat down in the tub and slid forward a bit, tilting his head back when he felt Eliot cupping warm water over his hair. A few minutes later Eliot’s hands were in his hair, gently working the shampoo through the long strands.

“Fuck,” Quentin groaned.

“Teaching the baby to curse already? I’m so proud,” Margo said as she took one of Quentin’s hands and started filing his nails.

“Eliot’s going to turn me into a puddle of goo,” Quentin breathed, arching into Eliot’s touch.

“That is the plan, a relaxed puddle of goo,” Eliot said as he rinsed Quentin’s hair and moved on to conditioner.

“Your nails are so long, I’m mad I didn’t bring any polish,” Margo said as she finished one hand and moved to the other side of the tub to work on Quentin’s other hand.

“Maybe next time,” Quentin murmured.

“Really?” Margo said.

“No,” Quentin replied. “I already let you play with my hair.”

The pregnancy hormones’d had a big effect on Quentin, making his hair grow faster, thicker and longer than before. In the eight months Quentin had been pregnant, his hair grew to the point where it reached his lower back. It took forever to dry but Quentin, always very tactile and touch starved, got immense pleasure whenever someone washed or brushed his hair for him.

“You enjoy it as much as I do,” Margo pointed out.

“Fair,” Quentin said, humming as Eliot worked the conditioner through his hair before rinsing again.

“Wanna soak for a bit longer?” Eliot asked, leaning around kissing Quentin’s cheek.

“For a bit,” Quentin said with a nod.

“We’ll go get the bed ready,” Margo said. “Holler when you want to get out.”

The two of them left Quentin alone, and he closed his eyes and floated in the tub for a while. He’d never expected his life to turn out the way it had, but the closer he got to his due date, the more right it started to feel.

He and Eliot were closer than ever, if that was even possible. And he and Margo … their relationship had always been a bit odd, but they’d gotten so close, it was almost like being lovers but without the sex.

They were an odd threesome, but it worked.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Quentin was finally ready to get out of the tub and called Margo and Eliot back in to help him out of the tub. Once he was out, Margo drained the tub while Eliot wrapped Eliot in a robe and helped him dry his hair.

“Come see the presents I brought you,” Margo said.

“She’s very excited,” Eliot said, hand on Quentin’s lower back as they all made their way back into the bedroom.

“I can tell,” Quentin said.

“Shut up, the both of you,” Margo said. “Quentin sit so we can do your hair first.”

“I thought you wanted to show off the presents,” Quentin said but dutifully took a seat on the couch, smiling when Eliot sat down next to him and curl up against Quentin’s side, his hand on Quentin’s stomach.

“I do, but we need to fix your hair first,” Margo said.

Quentin hummed and dropped his head back as Margo worked with Quentin’s hair, first with the comb, then with the brush, then with her hands.

“You’re not doing anything crazy, are you?” Quentin asked. “Something I can’t nap in?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Margo said. “Just a French braid.”

“Okay,” Quentin said, resting a hand on top of Eliot’s. “Baby is moving again.”

“I know,” Eliot said, a bit in awe. “It’s still so amazing.”

“It is,” Quentin said. “We’re going to be good parents, right?”

“Of course we will,” Eliot said. “And Margo’s going to be the best aunt ever.”

“Of course,” Margo said, adding a band to the end of Quentin’s braid before moving over to the bed to get the wrapped package that had been left there. “Here, presents.”

Quentin shook his head and smiled as he carefully pushed aside the paper to reveal a bunch of articles of clothing in varying colors.

“What are these?” Quentin asked, rubbing a bit of fabric between his fingers.

Margo pulled one of the pieces of fabric off Quentin’s lap and unfurled it, revealing … 

“A caftan,” Eliot said.

“They’re all caftans,” Margo said. “Quentin had been complaining about how his clothes had stopped fitting and he’s been wearing his robe everywhere, so I thought he’d appreciate having something comfortable yet royal to wear.”

“Thank you, Margo,” Quentin said as he took a closer look at all the caftans; they were all shades of blue, green and purple. “They’re lovely.”

“Of course they are,” Margo said with an eye roll. “Also, if you’re trying to figure out which one to wear first, I go with one of the purple ones.”

“You should wear this one,” Eliot said, taking the package off Quentin’s lap and picking a deep purple caftan with gold stars embroidered on it. 

“Okay,” Quentin said. He let Margo help him to his feet, shrugged out of the robe and slipped the caftan on, running a hand over his stomach.

“How does it feel?”

Quentin smiled when he felt Eliot against his back, Eliot’s arms around him.

“Feels nice,” Quentin said. “Comfortable.”

“Yet incredibly royal,” Margo said. “They are good for going to advisor meetings or napping with the High King, which is what I expect you want to do now.”

“I am tired … shocker,” Quentin muttered. 

“Aw, sweetie, it’s okay,” Margo said. “Go nap with Eliot. Everything will still be here when you wake up.”

Quentin smiled and waddled forward, taking Eliot with him, and wrapped Margo in a hug.

“You’re the best,” Quentin whispered.

“I know,” Margo said. “Now go nap.” She stepped back and pressed a kiss to Quentin’s cheek, pat Eliot on the cheek and then left them alone.

“Have I told you yet today that I love you,” Eliot said as he led Quentin over to the bed and helped him lay down.

“No, but you didn’t have to,” Quentin murmured as he watched Eliot strip down to his trousers before climbing into bed behind Quentin.

“No?” Eliot asked as he pressed himself against Quentin’s back, wrapping an arm around Quentin and resting his hand on Quentin’s belly.

“No,” Quentin whispered, putting his hand on top of Eliot’s. “You showed me. Everyday you show me how much you love me.”

“I do love you,” Eliot said. “So much.”

“And I love you,” Quentin said, then chuckled when he he felt the baby kick under his and Eliot’s hand. “Baby loves us, too.”

Eliot smiled and pressed a kiss to Quentin’s hair. “And we love Baby,” he murmured.

“I’ll let Margo do my nails tomorrow as a thank you for the caftans,” Quentin mumbled, feeling himself drift off to sleep.

“She’ll like that,” Eliot whispered, watching Quentin sleep for a few minutes before allowing his eyes to close.

**Author's Note:**

> Wishing Lexalicious70 a VERY happy birthday1!!! <3


End file.
